Redacted Faith
by Lyssa Terald
Summary: In the aftermath of death and destruction, Thor and Sigyn leave Asgard behind. As Sigyn tries to make a life for herself an old rival surfaces and stirs up old history. As Thor tries to forget guilt and build a life with Jane, the Avengers call upon him again and SHIELD draws him back into their battles. Together, somehow, they'll find chaos and put him back together.
1. Chapter 1

As the light from the Tesseract faded and they found themselves again on the shattered edge of the Bi-frost, he couldn't have said that he was _surprised_ she was there waiting for them, silhouetted by the golden light of Asgard's brilliance. She was wearing a gold and green gown that fit her like a second skin and flowed off her hips to flutter around her ankles and trail behind her. Her dark hair had grown since he had last seen her and there was a thin, new scar that traced a path from her jawline to her collarbone and vanish beneath the neckline of her drew.

Her dark eyes found his first and he could only look away. For once, he was almost grateful for the gag Thor had forced on him. It, at least, spared him from having to say _something._ There were so many things that had been left unsaid, so many things he had _wanted _to tell her, things he _wanted _ to explain, but he couldn't-for once-find the words in himself to even begin to phrase them. In the distance, he could see the guards riding hard and fast approaching. Realizing he was still holding the…_thing_…he released it and let the weight of the Tesseract fall into Thor's hand.

Thor was frowning at her even before she unclasped her hands and started closing the distance between the three of them. "Sigyn-" he started.

"_No_, Thor," she said sharply. "I'll not hear you _lie_ again. You told me he was _dead_ and yet here we stand, on the Bi-frost that _both_ of you shattered with _both_ of you present. I'll not hear what you have to say, not with my _husband_ alive where said he was not. I _mourned_ when I could have been _searching_." When she turned her hard gaze on him, the color of her irises had shifted to a dark brown that did nothing to soften the look she fixed him with.

"I-" Thor started again, but stopped when she turned her gaze from him and stood before Loki. This was, he realized, not something that he _wanted_ to witness. It was too much a reminder of what had been lost, what could _never _be again.

Loki fixed his eyes on the guards that were still approaching, but it didn't discourage her. Her fingers were cooler against his skin than he remembered and, for all that he _didn't_ want to show weakness in front of Thor, he still flinched from the touch. When her hands slipped to the back of his head, he tried to jerk back but her fingers were too quick. The gag came away in one hand with the movement while she caught the back of his neck with the other and dragged him into a kiss.

For a moment, he could almost _believe_ that everything would be alright, that she wouldn't _hate_ him for what he had done, for the _genocides_ he had almost committed. Then she drew back a fraction and he could see the hard glint reflected in her eyes and in the lines of her face. She tugged on a lock of his hair and, her breath warm against his lips, said, "Do not make this worse, husband mine. _Please_ do not make this worse."

"Define worse," he said before he could stop himself.

The sad smile that touched her lips was not something he had expected. "The _dwarves_. Narvi. Vali. _Fenrir,_" she whispered.

His hands clenched into fists around his chains even as he leaned his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. Two sons dead for an attempt to _protect_ Asgard from the schemes of the dwarves and another that had been imprisoned for no more reason than what he _might_ have done in some distant path of a future that would never happen now. All things that had happened because _Odin_ was trying to _keep the peace._ "Alright," he said softly, for her ears only.

"Thank you," she returned just as softly and then stepped back as the hooves of the horses rang clear against the remnants of the bridge. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her _throw_ the gag into the _Void_ and scowl at Thor. It wasn't much, not by a long shot, but it made him smile a little despite what was waiting for them.

* * *

Before everyone, before _Sigyn,_ Odin greeted Thor with praise for returning the Tessaract and _saving another realm._ The suspicious, spiteful, _hateful_ looks that Loki received from his once comrades and the other Asgardians he could bear, he could even _enjoy._ The looks of suspicion, spite, and _hate_ directed at _Sigyn_, he was gritting his teeth over.

As Thor tugged at the chains and led them closer to their _father, _he asked, "Tell me, brother, with hundreds of mortals dead, Earth nearly destroyed, and you solely to blame for it all, what will you say for yourself when you face justice?"

_Did you miss me?_ The words were on the tip of his tongue, so _easy_ to toss at them, but _please_ rang through his mind, holding his temper and staying his rage. She was still at his back, a steady presence that had refused the guards _and_ Thor's directives to _leave._ Instead, he replied, "Nothing. I have nothing to say to you or anyone else." He didn't miss the way that Thor's gaze darted to Sigyn before he turned to his father and knelt.

He locked gazes with Odin and glared at the one that had brought him to _this_ point until Thor yanked the chains and one of the guards kicked his knees out and _made_ him kneel. As his knees hit the stone floor, there was a curse, a _thud_, and a _yelp_ that had everyone _staring_ and turning their heads to _look at Sigyn_ and the guard whom was now on flat on his back and staring up at the Healer. Loki felt his lips twitch as he realized she must have caught the male off guard and thrown him.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her gown as she straightened and came back to his side, but she made no move to kneel. As the seconds ticked by and stretched into minutes and the court began to fidget nervously, Odin continued to look down at them from his throne until, "_Sigyn,_" Thor hissed. "Kneel."

Sigyn looked at Thor sidelong and then slowly sank down until she sat on her heels at Loki's side. Her fingers brushed his wrist and then she looked at Odin expectantly. Loki bowed his head to hide a smirk. Mischief and chaos made flesh _he _might be, but when the embodiment of _fidelity_ passively refused to obey the proper rules of court then it unsettled most everyone in a way that _he_ never could.

"You have been brought before me today with two attempted genocides and an attempt to kill Thor, heir to the throne of Asgard. What have you to say for yourself?" Odin asked.

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about," he bit back. "It's what _Asgardians_ have done for eons, isn't it? Ruling the lesser races as _gods_."

"We are not gods," Odin returned. "We are born. We live. We bleed. We die."

He laughed. "Give or take five-thousand years."

There was a moment of silence in which Odin seemed to consider something. "The boy I knew is _dead_. What remains is a creature I do not recognize," he said heavily. "For your crimes, you will spend the rest of your wicked days in the dungeons, Loki _Laufeyson._" The last brought a stirring of surprise and outrage from the court except for Thor, Sigyn, and the ones he might have once called _friends._ Sigyn's hand found his and by the grip she took, he could _feel_ the way she was holding onto her temper.

Odin was looking at her and she at him. She rose to her feet and stepped before him. Loki tried to rise, to push her from his side, to keep her from being drawn into this…_this_, but Thor's hold on his bonds had only tightened at the way Odin _tossed the truth_ out in front of _everyone_. "I wish to be heard, _All-Father_," she said, clearly enough to cut through the din of renewed shifting and murmuring.

"Sigyn," Odin acknowledged. "It is always a welcome sight to see you, but you need not defend this…_creature_…that you married. You are no longer bound to show loyalty to one such as him after everything he has done." He wasn't watching Thor or Odin in that moment. They didn't matter, not the way _she_ did. If she turned…if she had decided…

Her shoulders stiffened and he could see the rage in the way that she held herself. "I have given Asgard _everything._ You took from me my throne, my sisters, my _parents_. You took from me the memories I had of my _childhood_. You, _All-Father_, sacrificed my _twins, _Narvi and Vali, to thwart a war that happened anyways. You sealed Hela into the realm of the dead when she proved a natural with the tricks and powers of her sire," Sigyn said, voice steady and quiet yet seeming to fill the entire hall. "You took Fenrir and Sleipnir's sentient minds and locked them into beast form for a _prophecy_ that _**might have**_taken place _thousands_ of years from now. I have given of my magic, my _body_, and my _mind_ to keep your people whole of heart and body. I say _no more_. You will not take from me my future! You will not take from me my husband!"

There was a collective silence as the court digested the overload of facts that she had given them. They had, after all, each seen the children that she had spoken of and heard stories, rumors, _tales_ of what fates had befallen each of them. Some snuck quick looks at the Warriors Three, Sif, and even Thor. That the five of them, their proudest warriors, could not meet the Healer's hard gaze when she turned her eyes to them was almost enough for them to , they had only to remember what Odin had protected them from in the past and their worries were smoothed over. No. Odin would not have done those things she accused him of, but so too was she their Healer. For her to believe such things…the Liesmith had to have bespelled her. Yes. That was it. Odin would see through the lie and set right the wrongs and she would continue to use her healing to look after them. It was, after all, her place to do so as a Healer.

"You are set on this, then?" Odin asked. "Would that I choose another sentence, you would join him in it?"

"Yes," she answered. "Choose another and so long as it leaves us sane and alive and together, I will join him in it. You can do no worse than what you have already done."

"Sig-" Thor and Loki began together, rising even as she tiled her head.

"One more thing, _All-Father,_" she said, ignoring them. "Do not think to strip us of our magic. It would only hasten the coming of Ragnarok."

Odin met his son's gaze briefly and what Thor saw there-a deep weariness that went beyond age-made him stop and bite back the protests that had been building, but it did nothing for Loki as he staggered to his feet and stepped towards her. He was white with rage and terror. "You cannot think to include her in this. She is innocent of my misdeeds. Do _not_ bring her into this. I _refuse-_"

"Be silent, Laufeyson!" Odin said and Loki could only clutch at his throat as his voice died. "The decision is made, for the lives that you cut short and the crimes you have wrought, _she_ shall live through each of the deaths that your hand inflicted. During that time, the both of you will be placed in adjoining cells where you can only see her. Once the sentence has been served, you and she shall never again darken Asgard's realm. So let it be." And thus said, they were taken by the guards and escorted from the throne room.

Thor, for all that he didn't _want_ to _let go_, gave his brother's chains to the guards with only the slightest of hesitations. No drink that night was strong enough to make him forget the _despair_ he had seen in Loki's eyes. No battle to defend and reclaim the realms in those passing months drove from his mind the knowledge that Loki and Sigyn were in the dungeons living through a very _special_ kind of repentance. Every time Odin called upon her after that to heal those warriors the other Healers and their Soul Forges could not, he saw just a little more of her mind slipping away, fleeing the terror and horror and heartache and _pain_ that living through so many deaths could do to someone like her.

* * *

For all that he paced and _watched_ and paused at where their cells touched, he could never reach across the divide and smooth the hair from her face or hold her when the screams caught in her throat or the tears dried on her cheek. _Regret_ was not an emotion he was accustomed to, but it tightened around him as he learned to count the terrors she was put through and pace through the deaths she lived. By his best estimate she would have to live through a grand total of almost five-thousand deaths.

Where some of the prisoners counted the days they had spent in that prison and carved their days into the stone, he counted the hours that she lived through, waited for the terrified scream to catch in her throat and took another off the count for her to endure. For every time that she screamed, he was there, as close as he could _get_, even if to the other prisoners and the guards it looked like he was reading the books that Frigga had arranged for him to have. Unable to affect the world outside, he could at _least _keep the gawkers from laughing and sniggering at him while _Sigyn_ suffered a punishment that-by rights-should have been _his_.

The first time that she was called upon, _pulled_ from the induced dream state, she had surfaced _screaming_ and _clawing_ and _terrified._ It had taken six guards to restrain her until she was coherent enough to understand that this wasn't another death to live through, another terror to tick off from their count. That had been when she had lived through five-hundred deaths. She did whatever healing that Odin required of her and was returned to the dream state, but not before she had caught his eye and smiled a sad kind of smile that made the _regret_ worse.

Every subsequent time after that the guards paused outside her cell for longer than necessary, he was watching them, waiting with half-dread, half-hope that she would be called upon again. The time between her scream and when the cycle began again were getting longer, she wasn't going through them quite so fast anymore. At the one-thousand mark, she was called upon again and though there were a dozen guards waiting to restrain her, they weren't needed this time. She woke with a sigh and dashed at the tears that had been gathering. This time, _this time_, she kept her head bowed and walked past him without acknowledging he was present.

They never told him _why_ she was being called upon, but sometimes Sif would find him, seek him out, and talk about the _battles_ and the hard won _peace._ She would talk about those injured and how the things that existed in shadows had been creeping out in the absence of the Bi-frost. He read between her words that Thor was not quite as well as she would have hoped him to be. He _heard_ the things she wasn't telling him in her avoidance to touch upon how the injured were handled and what kinds of weapons that their enemies were using. The Soul Forges and limited abilities of the other Healers could not keep up. That was why Odin pulled Sigyn from the dream state. That was why the rate at which she lived through the deaths had dropped.

At the two-thousand mark, she was called upon again and kept away for an extended period. The guards murmured amongst themselves, worry creased their brows. _Thor_. He heard it in the shifting of their armor, the nervous grip they kept on their weapons and saw it in the dark glances they threw him, but it was _Sif_ who confirmed it for him when she returned Sigyn to her own cell.

This time, _this time_, Sigyn met his gaze and nodded fractionally. There were lines around her eyes like she hadn't slept in weeks. She was thinner than he liked, but she was in command of herself and her eyes were clear as she took the potion to place her back into the dream state. When she was asleep again and well into another dream, Sif finally left her side and came to stand before him. For once, he hadn't bothered with the illusion and peered intently into Sigyn's cell while the dreams and death gathered once more.

"You don't deserve her, you know," Sif bit out.

"She loves too well to be chained to the likes of me," he acknowledged. "But Theoric would have simply continued on his downward spiral and taken her with him."

"And you're not?" she asked, but he already knew this argument and could see that it was just a ruse to hide her own pain and grief at what had already happened. She was here, venting, now because she could and because there was no one else that would listen to it.

"Try convincing Volstagg to stop eating. You'll have better luck with that than in trying to convince her to love another," Loki returned.

She looked at the guards that were superstitiously watching them from the end of the hall, trying to look like they weren't listening. "Half of Asgard thinks you have her enchanted to have agreed to take this from you," Sif said. "The other half thinks she's insane. You _aren't_ worth this, you know."

To that he only smiled. "Tell me, how is winning over my _brother_ going? Have you found a _human_ to be very difficult in displacing?" She flushed a dark crimson and stepped away from the cell. "Tell me this, then, _Lady_ Sif. Did Thor come through his…_ordeal_…intact?" At the shock that flickered across her face, he laughed. "It is not as if Odin would wake her for nothing. She is the best Healer that Asgard had, the _very_ best and among the only ones that can heal _without_ a Soul Forge."

Her gaze flicked to Sigyn and then back to him. "She saw him through it, drew the poison right out and kept up a continuous chain of casting until he could breathe on his own. It was…an arrow right through the shoulder."

"And the fool kept right on fighting," he muttered and shared a _look_ with Sif. For a moment, they almost smiled, caught up in the thousand years of history that had been between them. Then, she looked down and really did take a step back. "Do _try_ and keep him in one piece. Sigyn wouldn't be pleased to wake and find her healing had been undone in a fit of temper."

At that, she frowned. "Why is it that you suddenly care if he lives or not? You tried twice to kill him on Midgard?"

He shrugged and looked at Sigyn again. "_She_ cares. Is that not enough."

"It wasn't before."

He looked at her sidelong and grinned. "Yes, it was, actually. And now his continued existence will keep her sane through her foolish endeavor to shield me." He walked away from Sif then to stand at the barrier between the cells. The ticking seconds and sweat glistening on Sigyn's skin told him enough. "You should go. There is no further entertainment to be had here, no more reason to linger without raising their suspicion." Sif watched him for a moment and then stepped away and left him to his brooding and his counting.

* * *

When Sigyn had lived through just over half of the deaths from the attempted genocide and invasion, the Dark Elves returned. The Ether found its way to Asgard and Sigyn was woken to tend to the wounded. While she was gone, Thor enlisted his help to save the woman, Jane-whose first reaction to him (in his opinion) was _priceless_ beyond words. When it was over, when the Dark Elves were defeated and Malekith returned to Hela's custody, Sigyn was brought to Odin rather than back to her cell.

Instead of being chained as she had expected, the guards were dismissed. She looked after the guards, almost wishing that she could go with them. His gaze, when she glanced at him, was on her and bore more sadness than she cared to associate with him. Thor, she had heard, had refused the throne _again._ Frigga's death had been hard on them all, Loki most of all. Her heart twisted at the thought of what he had gone through, what kinds of ways he had thought up to blame himself.

"There is no easy way to say this, so I will make this as brief as possible for you. Loki is dead," he said, quieter than the first time he had uttered the words.

They fell flat between them and she merely raised her eyebrows at him. "You've tried this already, remember?" she said. "If this is some twisted _joke_ to…to…" she couldn't form the words, couldn't throw Frigga's death in his face. Frigga had been as much a mother to _her_ as to Loki and had been more than kind. To use her death in such a manner dishonored the kindness of Asgard's queen. She looked away and said, "The last time you tried this, he appeared on Midgard."

"That time, there was no body. This time, my warriors…" Time bled into itself from that moment. She would never be able to recall exactly what Odin told her, only that after…_after_…Sif was the one to escort her to Loki…to the _body_…the _corpse_. The skin was grey and threaded through with blue veins, his hands folded over his chest, and pieces of his armor still barely preserving his modesty. A single spell and the gapping tear in his chest told her he was _dead._

It was Sif who followed her from the room, Sif who caught her when her knees gave out in the gardens, Sif whose shoulder she muffled her sobs into, _Sif_ who bore the strikes of her fists and _let her grieve._ Rage, pain, _despair_ whispered in her ears and settled into her stomach, but madness stayed its hand when it would have been welcomed.

The funeral was a thing to behold…_again_. The flaming arrow that set fire to the little boat wasn't enough so she made the flame into a fireball that consumed the wood, the princely clothes, the staff, _everything_ as it flared brightly and then guttered out and released the orbs of light. The feast was one fit for a prince as they feasted and _toasted_ and _remembered…_again. She couldn't stand to see their false grief, the little smiles they wore, the quick glances they shot her, the smug twitch of their lips as they offered _condolences_. At least Fandral _meant_ it when he when he touched her shoulder and expressed _regret._

That was the last night that anyone would her wandering among them. In the morning, when they came searching for her, when Odin would try and summon her to talk about _duty_, they would only discover an empty room with a bed that had not been slept in.

* * *

Free. It was a word more bitter than the taste of ash, she reflected as she stood on the edge of the building overlooking the mortal city of _New York._ If she concentrated, she could almost _see_ the city as he had left it and even knowing it had been done by his hand, some of the ache eased. Violent or not, this was one area of the universe that Loki had walked into without Odin's insistence. It was a place where he had fought his own battle and lost. It was as close to _free_ as he had ever come.

It wasn't enough, not by far, but it would do, this human city through which he had walked.

* * *

A/N: If you've read my works before you'll notice some similar themes, but these aren't the same stories. So...Enjoy. :)


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of air being compressed and cycled and the smell of ash and fire was what told her she was not alone. Tilting her head back, she watched the red and gold warrior land. For an instant, she considered teleporting away…but to where? There was no other realm that she wished to be part of. The warrior's steps echoed strangely when he touched down onto the room and walked towards her.

"Nice night for star gazing, huh?" the warrior asked.

She tilted her head back to gaze at the constellations overhead. Their glittering beauty was, indeed, quite something. "Perhaps," Sigyn admitted. "But it was the constructions of your city that held my attention this night. They are unlike anything I have ever seen and the recovery from the battle is quite extraordinary. It is…as if nothing has ever happened."

Without turning to look at him again, without _watching _him, she could almost hear the calculations running through his mind. "You're not…a jumper are you?" he asked and she turned her head to gaze at him again. "Look, I'm gonna hazard a guess and say…you're not from around here, right?"

"I can teleport. Why would I wish to jump?" she asked, feeling the echoes of amusement.

_Watching_ him, she could see the moment that he understood and stopped to assess. She turned back to the city and watched its moving lights snake along at ground level and vanish. "Of all the nights," she heard him mutter before there was a sound almost like steam being released and the catching of metal on metal. "You from Asgard, too? We've had mixed interactions from them so it'd be nice to know beforehand if you're going to be a lunatic and start killing people."

"I am…" she had to pause and think about that for a long moment before she turned to study him. He was human, for certain. His armor had told her that much and no one wore protection like _that_ without being a warrior. "My name is Sigyn, born of the Vannaheim and once Healer for Asgard. I claim no realm now. They have taken much from me and I will give them nothing else."

There was a pause, a hesitation. Then, "Look, that's great and all, but we've only just been attacked…_again_…by another alien force and we're…" he trailed off, searching for words, and she realized just how very young they were still.

Sigyn closed her eyes again and laughed, a bitter sound. Loki had done them no favor when he attacked with his _Chituari_ army. "I have come to Midgard because it is only of the only places that does not hold some form bitter memories for me. I bear you and yours no ill intention. All I wish is to…" _have Loki again. _"…exist." Her throat had closed on the last word and tears had blurred her vision again so she turned her head from the human warrior and stared at the city below. Grief settled over her heart again and _squeezed._

He was a silent for a long moment. "You said you're a healer, yeah? What's that mean, exactly?"

She had to swallow several times before she could find her voice. "If the body is broken, I can heal the damage. If there is a sickness, I can ease the pain and, in some cases, extract the illness. I cannot cure everything, but it made me useful to Asgard in times that the Soul Forges were not enough."

"You're _really _not here for some form of twisted invasion scheme?" he asked. "No one will come hunting you down."

"No, no invasion and I left Asgard because they took too much from me."

"Okay, two questions, then. One: can you _show_ us your ability to heal on anyone that we ask? Two: Would you be willing to work with us if said abilities are genuine?"

Her head turned to him and she studied him sidelong. "To the first, yes. To the second, do you work closely with Thor?"

He frowned at that and she saw the answer in his face before he opened his mouth. " I don-"

"He has placed Midgard under his protection and you, obviously, are a warrior of Midgard. Do you fight beside him?"

"Yes."

"Then I've no interest in working with you. If you have wounded beyond your ability to care for, Thor knows _how_ to find me, but do not think for an instant I will respond to anything less than an emergency." Her tone was hard and biting, but she wasn't making any hostile moves or threatening. "You've nothing but my word to trust for this, but let my inaction and my healing speak for itself. I mean your world no harm and wish to live amongst your kind, but I also wish to limit my interactions with Thor. Just…leave me in peace and your world shall have no harm from me." With that final utterance, she stepped from the ledge and teleported away mid-air with only a vague _somewhere else on Midgard's surface _in mind as a destination, leaving the warrior to stare at open air.

* * *

_Somewhere else_ turned out to be too vague of a reference for the spell and she was deposited three feet over one of the oceans to slam down and fight against the currents. Air became a luxury as she was sucked under again and again, deeper and deeper until the strength was gone from her body and she could only float. Half conscious, she wasn't aware of when she surfaced, but-_dimly_-she was aware of _green _and _harsh words_ and the _warmth twisting around her, pulling_ and the hands that gripped her, the lights, the shouting, and the press of fingers against her breast bone until she puked water. Curled in a ball on the deck of a ship, she felt the uncoiling of fear that _did not belong to her._ _Somewhere else_ indeed was a lesson she would not soon forget.

* * *

Since the thwarted invasion, the Mandrin, and Greenwich, people had been cautious about superheroes but no less enthusiastic, therefore he wasn't surprised when Jarvis produced a SHIELD file from on her. Mostly, it detailed the possible myths about her and listed the powers that she had thus far displayed: teleportation and…healing. There were a few photos of her, but the dates were scattered and only told him that the night he had spoken with her was more or less the first night she had come to Earth. In every photo after that, though, her attire became more and more human and reflected the culture of those around her.

"_Live among your kind_" had really been just that, a desire to live among human kind. Besides that, her file contained a single report in which they questioned whether or not a _snatch and grab_, as Tony muttered under his breath and scowled at the rough outline, was a good idea or if she should be left alone. All subsequent attempts to approach her-two in total where they had actually had enough time to get someone out to where she was-had been met with teleportation. At the end of the end of the report, it was recommended that she be labeled a _low-level threat, capable but abilities unknown,_ that she _be watched with the intention of bringing her in_, and that _while her identity is unknown_ _call her Healer._ With that and everything he knew about SHIELD, he wasn't inclined to tell them about his interaction or his own research.

When Jarvis updated him that there was a new entry into the _Healers File_-or _Project Sigyn_ as he called it in his more personal files-he almost wasn't surprised by the _rumors_ that had been input into it. There were whisperings, news reports even, in which _miracles_ were being performed. Children on their death beds awoke like they had never been sick, crippled and mutilated individuals handicapped by old wounds were suddenly able to walk and speak again, and-in the darkest shadows of the underworld, there were whispers that this was the doing of _the Healer_. No one could ever do more than give a basic description-_dark hair, olive tone skin, fit, mid-late thirties_-and say that they had not paid her anything, only that the Healer had deemed them _worth saving. _The thing that drove Tony up the wall was that there were only a handful of these cases spread out across different countries and continents and those that _knew more than they were saying_ couldn't be pressed for more details. A few tests run on those she had healed showed no residual spells, no lingering damage, just a healthy body and cells like every other adult or child their age.

With the file in hand, and fingers tugging through his hair, he sat in a chair at the desk in his garage. Stark Industries was calling for the third time that morning and Pepper had checked up on him once-something was going on, he _knew_, but the rumors had been updated again, this time changing the _displayed abilities_ to that of _three known_: Healing, Teleportation, and Strength. A notation had been made: _Asgardian? _Apparently, she was back in New York and there were a few news reports circling about _horrific_ _car crashes_ and the victims being pulled bodily from the wreckage and _paramedics finding no visible signs of injury_ even though the cars were burnt out husks and fire was still guttering and-sometimes, _sometimes_-the body of the cars looked like they had been bent and forced _aside_.

Finally, _finally,_ his conscience won out and he set the file aside to begin tracking down Thor's location. It was bound to circle back to him, sooner or later, and Sigyn _had_ said that the thunderer would know how to locate her. Thor, for all that he was "off the grid", was painfully easy for Tony to find between the Facebook photos and SHIELD files. Apparently, they had been going back and forth over whether or not to approach him about _the Healer_. By the new reports, Fury was at his wits end with trying to approach her-_five more attempts met with teleportations_-and was leaning towards having Barton tranquilize her or approaching Thor about the newest addition to the "meta-human" community since they were still uncertain about whether not she was actually human or not.

Thus, that was how Tony found himself hovering over New Mexico and contemplating how best to approach the situation. He wasn't _running from Pepper and the situation_, not at all and Jarvis' silence on the way hadn't helped. This was a friendly visit to update a _friend_ on the status of one of his possibly-_rogue_-subjects.

So.

It almost wasn't a surprise when Thor greeted with a wary warmth and an excuse that left Jane and Darcy working in their lab. Any other day, any other _meeting_, he'd have been thrilled to exchange theories with Jane, but this wasn't any other visit. Thor's perceptive gaze on him, the way that he studied the human warrior told Tony everything he already needed.

_So._

It was on the outskirts of that small town Jane lived in he could never recall the name of that Tony found himself telling Thor everything he knew. For all that the Thunderer's face did not change, that he turned his head from Tony was almost an admission of guilt. "…said you'd be able to locate her if we needed her," Tony finished with a frown.

"Aye, that I can, but I will not summon her," Thor said.

Tony looked at the small group that had gathered about a mile away to take pictures and mutter quietly over the two of them. "Look, she hasn't made any hostile moves, but it's been _six months_ and SHIELD doesn't have more than a few scraps to go on for her. They've tried approaching her and that hasn't worked. Their next move is to tranquilize her or ask your help and, judging by your reaction and her's, I'd say they'd have a better time with Barton." He paused and said, delicately, "If the myths are right and she is _Loki's_ wife, then they'll be inclined to subdue her and-"

"It will do them no good," Thor said flatly and pained regret filled his face for a moment. "Loki is dead. Sigyn likely came here just after the funeral in an attempt to leave Asgard behind and find some measure of comfort in the fact that Loki came to this realm. You say that she has been to New York several times?"

"Half a dozen by SHIELD's count," Tony replied, sorting through the emotions that flashed through him at the news, _relief, fear,_ and _uncertainty._ "I-I _am_ sorry, for your sake, that your brother is dead." The unspoken _is she stable_ passed between them, but Thor only shrugged and looked at the small crowd that was still flashing pictures of them.

"Asgard…_I_…took from her, her future," Thor admitted slowly. "What little she gains by being here will never be enough, not with regards to what could have been, but if she gains some measure of peace, of _healing_ by being here, then I will help her to defend it as best I can. If she told you that her intentions are peaceful, then they are." Thor regarded him gravely after that. "Do not make an enemy of her, friend Tony. Things do not end well for those that do."

All the subtle questioning in the world did not divulge anything more and Tony didn't have the heart to pull Loki's name into the conversation again. Even he knew when some wounds were still too raw to poke at and this was one that screamed _don't touch,_ so he was left with unsatisfying answers and forced to return to what he did best.

It became almost an idle curiosity after that, tasking Jarvis to watch for anything new and having him sort them into categories: Healing and Other. He got the report detailing the different activities at the end of the week. Healing, eating, _watching_, and fitting in. For all that she was an _alien_ and able to teleport, no one that she interacted with seemed ill at ease, but then she never seemed to interact with someone more than once.

"Jay," he asked a week after his conversation with Thor. "How would you categorize her behavior?"

For a long moment, his AI was silent. "Based upon everything that we have observed, there is a sixty-seven percent that she is not planning a massive attack."

He looked up from SHIELD's most recent report on her. "_Only_ sixty-seven percent?"

"I am accounting for the fact that she has not achieved a stable existence since she arrived and for past associations," Jarvis replied. "In light of this knowledge, I feel that sixty-seven percent is a very optimistic number. She is, I believe, less of a threat to humans than to Asgardians. Mythological references refer to her as a healer, not a destroyer of worlds."

He sorted through a few other reports he had managed to glean from SHIELD and other government organizations. "What about this one? This Doctor fellow. Shows signs of madness, paranoia, and a penchant for building things with…_paranormal_…affects," he scoffed. "Lives in… Latveria. Thoughts?"

"Potential to be a minor to moderate villain, assets lend a ninety percent chance of lethal weapons acquired. Paranoia makes it unlikely he will work often with other villains," Jarvis informed him in dry tones. There was a moment of silence between them in which Tony didn't look up from the reports he was shuffling through and Jarvis cast about for the right phrasing, finally settling on, "Sir, this will not make your situation any better. The shrapnel has-"

"I _know_, Jay. I just…_can't_. It can't be done. I've looked into the alternatives and there are none," Tony said, running a hand through his dark hair and sitting back hard in his chair. "The theory is sound and I can _build_ the equipment, but…it's…I would have to put my life in someone else's hands, someone _other_ than Rhodey, Pepper, or one of the Avengers and it's…I _can't._"

"But-"

"_No_," he said and his voice broke.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I disclaim all characters and events taken from Marvel, Marvel Cinematic, and anything else copyrighted. The only thing I own is my own creative insanity._

_In this chapter, we pick up where Sigyn left off and we see the six/seven months play out in snapshots from her perspective. Fair warning for dark themes ahead. On another, related, note I have also been watching Agents of Shield so if you're familiar with that series you may also be familiar with some of the plots I'll use in future chapters or mentions that I make of events that happened elsewhere._

* * *

Sigyn had, it turned out, dropped herself into the Atlantic Ocean off the tip between Canada and Greenland and the men that had pulled her out were part of a fishing company. Mostly, what she remembered from those few days she spent with them was answering a few questions, shivering, and turning away food when they tried to feed her. Between the hushed, concerned voices and heavy footsteps as they stomped around on the deck, she didn't sleep, _couldn't_ sleep. Too much activity, too confined of a space, and too little energy to teleport away.

When they docked, she had been gently handed over to the medical and harbor staff that had been called and the only thing she could bring herself to do was curl into a ball beneath the blanket they had thrown around her shoulders. She could make out some of the conversation, but didn't decipher what they were trying to say even when they talked to her. Mostly, once they realized she wasn't going to answer their questions, they took her vitals and talked quietly amongst themselves. Exhaustion clung at the edges of her vision and turned the world grey.

After that, she recalled only snatches of color and sound as they guided her and turned her here and there. Where she normally would have resisted gentle directions, she found the familiarity of them to be…reassuring. At some point, they few her food that she didn't turn away and their faces started coming back into focus until she slid into a light slumber.

When she woke, it was from the dropping of a tray and the startled oath of a…healer? She tried to focus on the woman and found it difficult to do so. Blinking, she realized that she was looking at a strangely garbed woman and that her head was foggier than it should have been for such a light sleep. How long had it been? She tried to measure the hours and came up with only a blank. Struggling up and out of the twisted mess that she had made of the blankets on the…_bed?..._she swung her legs free and measured the human healer from beneath her lashes.

In their place, she had sedated intruders and attackers alike who had breached Asgard's defenses. She had fought to drawn blood to _protect_, but this wasn't Asgard and these humans weren't warriors by nature. That didn't mean she didn't recognize _threat_ in the human's movements when their eyes met and the woman threw herself backwards and…

Sigyn was gone from that darkly lit room and its not-healer before she found out how humans treated those they considered a threat. Whatever they had drugged her with was still present in her body, but- even disoriented-she could still reach for _Loki_ and let the spell wrap around her and deposit her onto her knees in the middle of a crowded area. _New York._ Distantly, she recognized the rising buildings and ostentatiously marked _A _tower. Blinking and coming a little bit more to her senses, she looked around at the humans that had paused and felt _power_ prickle along her skin and scrambled to her feet to weave through the humans before the _watcher_ could locate her.

_Whispers._ A familiar voice. _Whispers. _

A hallucinogenic sedative to make her pliable and relaxed. _Beeping_ that echoed through her skull as she wove a path through the humans. _Away_, the whispers told her. _Safe. This way._ The ache that curled through her belly and settled over her heart had nothing to do with the nausea that wormed its way through her with movement. It was bone deep and did nothing to stop her from following the pull that _Loki's_ voice was leading her through. Shapes blurred again into themselves and she staggered into someone's shoulder only to be shoved back. The magic that rose to her defense was clamped down on.

When she was next fully aware of herself, she found that she was in an abandoned building that looked as though it had once been used for storage, forgotten, taken over by the less fortunate, forgotten again, and then..._used_…by one like her. _Magic_ danced around this place and, for just one moment, the pain, that _ache_ was gone before she slipped back into a dreamless sleep to regain the strength she had spent.

* * *

As the seasons changed and the leaves drifted slowly to the ground to leave the trees barren the weather turned bitingly cold and she passed the time by exploring, by watching, by shaping her surroundings to something that suited her needs. _Understanding_ the culture and the words and the clothes was slow in coming, but observing them told her how to fit in even if she didn't fully comprehend the _why_ behind what they did. The dress she had originally left Asgard in had since been morphed into jeans and a simple, green cotton shirt. Occasionally, she shifted the patterns and refreshed the clothes to be sure she didn't stink, but for the most part they were left alone. Eventually, she would have to acquire different sets of human clothes when this set wore out, but until then she decided to leave well enough alone. Mimicking the exact paper and quality of their money had been trickier than she had thought it would be, but-eventually-she had perfected it and didn't resort to stealing food and leaving conjured gold for the owners.

Whatever the building she had first woken in _had_ been, it was now home to the occasional beggar and a choice location for prostitutes and their marks. A charm that continually cleaned the area she had chosen. A spell to draw water from the local source-_not _the closest one as she had learned when she tried to boil it (and _really_, the _sewers?_ _Water_ was not _waste_, she had had to reinforce into the spell). Making the entire building vanish would have been too conspicuous and required an anchor, but making one room unseen by those who came and went was easy enough and required almost no power at all when she anchored it into regenerative anchor.

With the days the faded into weeks, she slowly came to understand that Loki had spent a great deal of power here, had put a real effort into working on…something. When she concentrated, she could almost make out the shock-tingle of a power strong enough that its echo made the hairs on her neck stand up, but that's all it ever did and it got weaker every time. With the passing of time and the longer that she worked her own magic, the echoes of his faded a little more.

It was when she was sorting through the spells she had anchored in the magic that she took note for the first time of the others that passed through. A _whimper_ that echoed through the darkness and rippled through her. She cut the link with her spells and looked sidelong into the darkness. The other _inhabitants_ were used to her, knew she would pay their activities no mind if they left her be. Asgard and Vannaheim had had its share of illicit activities and _these_ were tame in comparison, but…that _sound._ She knew pain when she heard it, felt it _echo_ up from her own experiences.

The sound repeated, just a fraction louder this time and accompanied by harsh breathing. She followed it at a quick pace and approached without running, already falling into _dark_ and _protector. _A female on her knees and a male above her with a hand braced against the steel wall and clenched buttock bare to the world as his hips moved in a harsh rhythm. Whore, she identified by the last, revealing shreds of clothing. As Sigyn moved closer, footsteps silent now, she saw the bruises and the lacerations that littered the female's skin. A deal gone sour, then. She paused in the moment before she struck and assessed how much power would disable him.

He was talking, but she didn't hear the words. She heard only the pained sounds that the female was making. Then, power crackled in her hand and she had him by the throat, fingers digging into his throat and blood seeping down his skin as her power wound its way through him. Before the impulse set in to _crush_ the fragile bones in her grip, she walked him back and threw him at the floor. The woman-_girl_ really-scrabbled back and curled around herself against the wall, shaking and hiding her face. Satisfied the girl was in no more danger, she turned to the male and curled her lips when she saw him trying to _crawl_ away.

Walking after him at a casual pace, she placed a foot delicately on his left wrist and exerted enough pressure to _splinter_ and _crack_ and _**scream.**_She stopped just before she crushed the bones past knitting. "Child," she said, pitching her voice so the girl could hear her. "What is your wish for this one? It is you who came to harm at his hands, let it be your choice to decide his fate." She could feel the spell curling beneath his skin, feel the way that it _pressed_ against fractured bones and _flexed_ in anticipation for her command. The noises that he was making were meaningless, but the girl's…

"Go _away!_ I don't want him anywhere near me!" the girl shrieked, head buried in her arms as she rocked back and forth, sobbing.

Sigyn paused, assessed herself, and reluctantly removed her heel from the man's wrist. Mercy, then, would be issued, but there would be no walking away from this, _not_ something like this. Predators and prey were all well and good, but not among sentience. Not among one's own race from those too cornered by the world to do any better.

"The next time you wish to prey upon someone, you will _remember this_," she said and crafted her spell into _memory_ set to specific, base desires. "You may go now," she said dismissively and turned away to walk slowly towards the girl. Distantly, she was aware of the male's babbled words and the sound of him scrabbling away as she circled the girl to kneel beside her.

Sigyn traced a hand gently along the girl's arm and withdrew the touch when she flinched, but it was enough for the magic to take hold and soothe pain and repair the cuts. The bruises faded until there was nothing left and her skin was unblemished again. "Child," she said gently, "You will not come to harm from me. Will you look at me?"

The girl shook her head and sobbed harder. Sigyn didn't sigh. She just settled back against the wall and waited. Eventually-finally-the girl had cried herself out, but her trembling hadn't subsided so Sigyn started talking, not about anything important, just about things she had gleaned from observing and pieced together and about other things, like about food. Sometimes she posed a question, paused and then continued talking when there was no answer.

She stopped when the girl took up a soft, broken litany, "I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home…"

* * *

Sigyn learned of _newspapers_ and drew great amusement from some of the stories she read, others she simply smiled at. Almost the very first one that she read had a picture of one Amanda Smitheson whose _"…reappearance was considered nothing short of a miracle in light of police having given her up for dead almost a year and a half after her disappearance…"_ That and the follow up on the girl's recovery and claim that _"...'real live superhero found me'…"_ had been the only bits of news she had looked upon with any bit of fondness as the others filled in her knowledge gaps for the goings on for the world.

The stories regarding devastation and war and famine in _"third world countries_" drew her curiosity and hostility when the papers featured pictures of skeletal thin children and villages blown apart. After that, she began learning the geography of the distant continents to teleport. In doing so, she brought herself into contact with people who reminded her painfully of the Vanir who lived in distant villages far and away from the ruling city, whose homes were carved from rock and survival bought in blood and sweat and pain.

The healings she performed time and again usually brought gratitude that she shied from, unused to as she was with tears and individuals trying to hug her or press into her hands what little they had. It became almost habit to vanish once the spells had completed themselves and she was certain of a recovery. What was familiar, though, were the healings that brought contempt and suspicion and accusations of being _"…the spawn of Satan…" _or something similarly evil as she understood from the cultural references they hurled alongside the stones. And always, every time, the warmth of _connection_, of _familiarity_ eased some part of the ache as she worked spells that came as easily as breathing.

No matter how long it was that she spent among the other countries, eventually she always returned to New York to wash the grime and mull over the memories she had made there. In the end, she admitted that there was no difference that she could make through healings there alone and bringing some type of peace to those countries would have required a take over-which she could _probably_ do with a few subtle spells and allies-but the humans had already proven their reluctance to outside influences and she had never _desired_ a throne anyways. It was New York, in fact, that showed her how she _could_ make a difference to those that needed hope.

* * *

In the darkest shadows of the human _underworld_ in which dreams were preyed upon and lives gambled away, the seedy collectors of drugs and illicit things whispered quietly among themselves about _the Healer._ Miraculous healings performed with no want of reward, the drying up of one of the _businesses_ when the _boss_ was found dead behind his guards and security alarms and no signs of forced entry, the slow, creeping fear that one of them would be next. When one of the brighter criminals thought to take a hostage out of one of the ones she had _healed_ and demand a ransom, the thug turned up the next morning as a suicide, the others involved with the kidnapping turning themselves in, and the hostage nowhere to be found.

* * *

Sigyn had the child cradled in her arms when she shifted back to the boy's home and found the local authorities searching for him using hounds and flashlights. She had, originally thought to tuck the boy into his own bed but the voices from downstairs had drawn her to the stairs and the creak of wood and her appearance broke the quiet hum of conversation and planning. The mother's outburst of _"Oh, thank God"_ was something she had expected and had freely given the boy to his mother-subtle spells aside, she had been sure of the woman almost from the beginning.

What she was _not_ expecting was the policemen to draw their _guns_ and move in on her. The demands for her surrender were ignored as she nodded again to the mother's tearful litany of thanks. The spell wrapped around her and then she was gone.

* * *

The car accidents had been, well, _accidents._ She hadn't meant to rip the vehicles apart to get to the child and the adults, but standing on the side of the road and _watching_ the husk of a metal monster flame and destroy _life_ hadn't been something she could do. When she had dashed forward from among those that watched, she felt the grip of hesitant hands try to pull her back and fall away. She never heard the gasps of surprise or the hopeful murmurs when she wrentched the door open and dragged the child out. Someone who had followed her took the child from her and backed away when she dove back into the heat of the flames and wormed her way forward to touch a hand to each parent and teleport them twelve feet away.

More people stepped forward to take the adults and drag them back while she turned again to the burning husks of metal. A subtle spell let her see the varying movements of the heat inside the flames and…yes…there…someone else was still alive and thrashing about the other truck…trying, _trying_ to get out. Between one thought and the next she was inside the fires, feeling them lick again at her arms and face while she got her arms around the person's torso and traced back her path to the concrete where she could lower the gasping body gently to the cold stone.

Throwing a containment field around the cars was almost a second thought while the flames roared and consumed the wreakage. With four victims gasping for air and struggling to stay conscious, she had them lain side by side where she could monitor vitals and work spells. Starting with the child, she began to heal the internal damage that inhaling the fire had done to his throats and lungs. Occassionally, she threw a glare at someone who strayed too close while she worked until, finally, she had healed the last adult's blackened skin and returned it to her normal shade of pale white.

She looked up as someone flashed a light and took note of how many people seemed to be holding small, rectangular devices and how the humans had crowded into a circle around them. Scowling, she released the spell that had kept the adults unconscious and waited just long enough for the parents to grab at their child before she straightened and surveyed those around them. "Back off," she said as the male from the second truck staggered to his feet and looked around, dazed.

She turned to catch his arm as he took a step too close to the crowd that was starting to talk excitedly. The parents, she was relieved to note, had not moved from cradling their child and simply looked at each other, stunned. "How'd you do that?" came the first shouted question. "Was this a movie stunt?"

They pressed closer and she held her hands out to either side of her, commanding her power to wrap up around the five of them and to _not allow others closer._ Exclamations of surprise rose as they were pressed back a step. Some fell away with a wary look, but there were others more than happy to push forward and run their hands over the barrier she had crafted. The noise rose in pitch until the first scream sounded as someone was shoved and stepped on.

Frustrated at the way things were turning, she snapped off several spells that burst off bright lights before the crowd and made a noise like a dying banshee. Another spell to freeze movement within the general area before the stampede and shrieks began and she had their attention as wholly as if she had murdered someone in front of them. "This is no stunt," she warned them. "I _ask_ that you back away and not harass these people. Have they not been through enough trauma? Were you in their places, would _you_ appreciate being gawked at?" A few mutinous _"yes"s_ floated up from the crowd, but they sounded half-hearted and muttered at best. Instead of responding to them, she continued, "I'll release a few of you at a time so that you do not trample each other. I apologize if I frightened you, but pressing together like this is not safe." Thus said, she began the process of undoing the spell one part at a time. When she had released about half of them, there came the wailing of red, blue, and white lights to announce the arrival of several teams of thoroughly confused firemen and policemen.

The male from the truck, she noted, was staring at her with something torn between terror and gratitude, but he said nothing and the parents had long since seemed content to lean together and murmur over their child. For an instant, she felt a brief pang of jealousy. Then, her attention was wholly on releasing the spell again even as the first policemen wove their way through the remainders of the crowd and paused at the edge of her barrier when they found they could go no further. "Give me a few more moments and I will release the other spells," she told them. "I apologize. It was not my intention to cause such a stir."

"Anyone die?" one of the officers asked, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

She blinked at him. The lack of reaction to her magic was…unusual…but refreshing. She smiled and shook her head. "None that I know of. There may be a few injured among the crowd but none severely so," she said.

"You can release them. We'll take over from here…" the way he trailed off indicated he was waiting for a name.

"Healer," she said and hesitated. "You are certain?"

"It's what we do…_Healer,_" the officer said, almost smiling at the name, but there was a tired, _wary_ expression in his eyes that made her hesitate again. Finally, she did release the people that remained and lingered just long enough to see the medical personnel start towards those indicating they were injured and watch the policemen engage some of those that had witnessed everything. The cars had guttered out long ago and those she had healed were as well as could be expected. Satisfied there was nothing further for her to do, she simply vanished.

* * *

The next time she pulled apart a pair of cars, she was more careful and simply teleported those that needed healing _away _from the scene and kept them unconscious until their law authorities arrived to take control of the scene. Only then would she return those that had been in the accident. Reports and rumors of a _Healer_ continued to circle through the city and its nation but she remained happily inconspicuous and occasionally disguised when she walked with humanity.

* * *

Through it all, she was painfully aware of the eyes that watched her. Six months, six _peaceful_ months she had spent on Midgard and only a handful of times had she been approached-the humans, of _course_ knew that she was there and had their own eyes on her but theirs were easiest to evade. It was Heimdall's gaze and another's that occasionally unsettled her as she felt their power graze over her. Odin was tracking her, she knew that and didn't care enough to do more than hide the location where she slept. It was the third that kept her on edge and finally drove her out of her peaceful existence.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: This one was rather fun in writing. Certain Marvel characters have always fascinated me so this particular spin made me rather gleeful in crafting the history between Amora and Sigyn._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Though she was a healer by choice, profession, and temperament, Sigyn reflected wryly, she was also a sorceress and by definition one of three females who could have done more than wield a single type of magic. Loki, for all that he enjoyed mischief, had been one of only a few sorcerers. The number of male and female magic wielders amongst the known realms came to only a dozen. With Loki and Frigga dead, it brought that number to ten. Rivalries and jealousies had always been the heart of the relationships among magic users for as long as they had known of one another. Even she and Frigga had clashed on occasion, though the results were never anything that could not be repaired, but it had never compared to the fights and devastation she and Amora caused when _they_ clashed.

Amora's escapades through Asgard and the other realms were half legend and exaggerated lies with just enough of a touch of truth to be terrifying and intriguing. As it was, Sigyn watched the other sorceress with a slanted gaze as she blew on her coffee and reclined in her chair in front of the café she had chosen that morning. The human watchers had been pressing closer of late and she had begun contemplating letting one of them approach her, but Amora had stolen her attention because-of _course-_the Enchantress would have chosen _now_ to pick up the last thread of their previous fights.

The humans chattered and moved amongst themselves, unaware of the two magic users that were eyeing each other. It didn't matter that they couldn't _see_ Amora or that the female had chosen to wear her tightest green outfit and matching boots because Sigyn could see the shimmer of power that cloaked her from prying eyes.

In times past, Amora had never bothered with subtle tricks the way she and Loki had. Hitting hard and running fast had always been her style. The plans that required greater lengths of time and preparation were also something that hit unexpectedly and wrapped themselves up within a matter of days _when_ they were acted upon. This, now, intrigued her. Amora was leaning outside her usual habits and simply _watching_ her.

When Sigyn finally raised her eyebrows and sipped at her coffee, Amora grimaced and scowled at her. The magic held even as the Enchantress strode towards her. Subtly, her own power rippled up and flowed protectively around her. Sigyn shifted her position and leaned her arms on the table, legs positioned for a quick rise. "I thought you'd have preferred Asgard," Sigyn murmured into the cup when Amora stood across from her.

"The humans watch you, you know," Amora said, voice pitched in amusement.

"I'm aware," she returned evenly.

Amora paused, like her answer wasn't the expected answer. "You are aware and yet you allow them this _close?"_ she asked, eyes flicking to the male wearing a business suit and hovering with his head turned away. He had a phone glued to his head and a bagel in his hand, but he rarely said anything and occasionally darted a glance at her. Sigyn caught his eye on another pass and held it just long enough for him to know she knew before she returned her gaze to the Enchantress.

For a long moment they studied each other, a strange understanding seeming to pass between them. "You have not come to fight," Sigyn said. "You've not brought your pet with you. Why _have _you come?"

Amora looked at him, oddly at a loss for words. "It is…not outside the realm of possibility that I would wish to…ensure that you are still sane. _Every_ realm has heard of your loss, sister," she said and Sigyn visibly stiffened. "I never liked him and I always thought you foolish to love him, but you were happy and _strong_ together. You have my condolences on your loss."

She stood and turned away. "As you have always had mine in your choice," she murmured in return. She tossed the half full cup into the trash and moved away at a slow walk, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Amora, she saw out of the corner of her eye, wavered in a decision before she followed. For a moment, she had a fleeting impression of recognition, but like everything from her early years of life it slipped away from her. Whatever had been between them as children, only the imprint of vague emotions remained. It wasn't enough to stop them from _fighting_ and _striking_ at each other, but in times like these-when grief curled around their hearts-it was easy enough to hold to the familiarity of these moments.

Through the park they wandered for a time, both loathe to break the silence that had settled between them. Finally, Sigyn moved into the shadows of a willow and pivoted to face her. "Your magic has a certain quality to it that I would know anywhere. You've been watching me, so this is more than a visit to express your regret," she said bluntly and regretted only briefly the quick pain that flickered across Amora's face before she smiled that same smile she always wore.

Their roles settled back into the familiar routine, bound by the guarded respect and dangerously edged acknowledgement they were equal to each other. "There was an item taken from your sorcerer when he failed in his conquest of this world," Amora stated. "I would propose that you join me in taking it back from the humans." As expected, a sharp hunger crossed Sigyn's features before she turned her face away.

"The scepter that controls the wills of those it touches," she said. "No. I will not join you in taking it. Leave it where it is, _sister_. Naught but ill will come of taking it from where the humans have placed it."

Though it was abrupt and expected, Amora had been expecting the answer but it made it taste no better. She had been _trying_ to reach out, to draw Sigyn into her world and give her some form of stability. What better way to begin to achieve it than by taking something from the ones that had started Loki down the path towards his death? Studying her now, though, she could see that she had come too late. "You _enjoy_ living among the mortals?" she asked softly.

Sigyn's answer was slow in coming when she met her sister's gaze again. "It is not enjoyment that keeps me here. It is…" she trailed off, clearly struggling for the words to express emotions she barely understood. "It is complicated and tangled and hopelessly messed up. He tried to destroy this world yet they are resilient and they have nearly erased his path through their world, but they will never be able to completely erase what he did from their memories. They grow around what he did, take the negative and turn it inwards and _grow_. That is something he caused in them and it…" She stopped, tears suddenly catching in her voice.

Amora looked away. Grief that was still this fresh wasn't something she liked dealing with, wasn't something she _knew_ how to deal with, but Sigyn was her sister and her rival and _she_ needed Sigyn whole and sane and the only way she could see that happening was if, by a miracle, Loki was actually alive. So, the next best thing…her mind spun back to old plans and even darker days. If Sigyn would not join her and find stability, then there were other ways to force it on her.

"You should go," Sigyn said abruptly, looking away.

Amora turned her head back to study Sigyn for a moment before she nodded. There were no words left, nothing that would convince Sigyn to join her, perhaps nothing that would _ever_ have convinced her. Turning, she recalled the moment that had set them on their paths, so opposed in nature and in magic, the moment she had struck in jealousy and scorn, thinking her sister had turned from her in shame and in anger. Turning her niece into a half skeletal creature hadn't been her wisest move, but it had never crossed her mind that Odin would have taken something as precious as _memories_ from Sigyn. Even when she had discovered her mistake and Odin's treachery, it had been too late to reverse the damage because Hela was simply out of her reach. With that memory held firmly in mind, Sigyn's rage at attacking her adopted daughter, she left her sister to her grief and the ruins of a life that had been taken from her.

Sigyn watched her go, vanishing from sight as she and Loki had often done and she wondered, for a moment, how differently their relationship might have been had Odin not taken from her the memories of a childhood spent among the Vanir. It had been the price Odin extracted for her willing participation in Theoric's death and one she had paid gladly.

Suddenly aware that she could see shapes on her peripheral vision moving closer, she turned her head slightly to see the human male from earlier. He was walking straight for her at a quick pace without running. His stride paused for a moment when he met her gaze and then he resumed his steps. Obviously, they meant to try and approach her again. She watched him and considered again letting them approach her, but the fatigue that she felt weighing down on her didn't bode well if the interaction turned into a fight.

She waited for him to reach the perimeter of the willow's leaves before she paralyzed his steps and said, "Not today. Tell your superiors that I will allow the next of you to approach me. Just…not today." Her form twisted on the spot as she teleported away. When she was gone, the spell snapped free and the agent swore.

* * *

Thor watched the agents approach, already knowing what it was they wanted. When they asked him to accompany them back to SHIELD headquarters, he didn't refuse and he wasn't surprised when he was sequestered into one of their interrogation rooms. The door was left open-of course-but it didn't do anything to lessen the idea that this…_conversation_…was going to be anything but friendly. At the least, it was Commander Hill who entered the room ten minutes later with a file and their questions. He was leaning against the wall, fully armored with Mjölnir still hooked to his belt. With his arms crossed over his chest, he studied the SHIELD agent as she set the file down and looked at him in return.

"This is just protocol," she began. "We mean no offense in asking you to come in, but we need information concerning several potential individuals who are suspected of being Asgardian."

"What is it that you intend to do with the information I may provide?" he asked. "Do you intend to interfere with those that lead peaceful lives? Or is it your intention to try and draw them into fights they may not even desire to take part in?" It might have sounded callow of him, but in the last few years he had lived through, he had learned the hard way that not all Asgardians were fit to wage war and, indeed, not many even desired the conflicts that he and his friends had eagerly plunged head first into.

Instead of directly answering, Hill flipped open the file and shuffled through the papers until she found the desired photos. Extracting them, she turned them and pushed them towards Thor. "Three in particular concern us. Any others we may identify, we _watch_ and occasionally make contact _if_ they appear to be amendable to the idea of working with us. Direct interference is strictly prohibited unless they are actively showing that they are different from the rest of the world."

Thor's mouth tightened, but he approached the table and looked at the photos. One, he was unsurprised, was Sigyn standing beneath a willow tree, her head turned away but her agitated expression still very much visible. The second photo showed Amora and he couldn't help the aggravated sigh as he studied her. "The Enchantress," he said, tapping the picture. "Neutral in most things unless she wants something. It would be wise to continue watching her." The third, unsurprisingly, was an image of Amora's body guard, Skurge. He studied the image for a long moment before he laid Amora's picture on top of Skurge's. "Where she goes, he will follow."

"Will you tell us anything of what they can do?" Hill asked.

Thor studied Amora's photo for a long time before he admitted, "Skurge favors strength and straightforward attacks and it is him that I usually clashed with when it came to fights. Amora is more like my brother, but far less subtle. She favors magic that hits hard and ensnares quickly. She does not linger and is difficult to track unless you have another magic user to help you."

"This Amora and Skurge pair, do you know what their intentions are?"

He smiled humorlessly. "Amora is the intelligent one of the pair. If it is intentions you look for, look for them in the things she does not do. More often than not, she has destructive tendencies," he answered. He laid a hand against Sigyn's photo and simply looked at it. "This one. What do you call her? What name has she given?"

Hill absorbed his half forlorn expression and almost found herself wondering if the female was one of Thor's former lovers. Immediately, she dismissed the thought as neither professional nor relevant to the direct matter at hand. Her objective was to determine the threat levels of the three identified and no more than that. Personal relationships aside, Thor would provide what information he wanted or he would keep it to himself and they had no real way of prying anything out of him. Instead, she flicked through the papers until she came to two particular reports and more photos of the female.

"We've been aware of her for several months and she has displayed nothing that would have concerned us in the past, but she's…elusive. She knows when we're tracking her and she teleports away if we try to approach her. She's been named the Healer because most of the time that's what she does. She seems to have a penchant for healing people and a strength that reminds us a great deal of your people," Hill explained and observed the myriad of emotions that flicked across his face. "As far as we can tell, she's settled nowhere since arriving and that is part of what worries us."

Thor straightened and took a step back to lean against the wall again. "It is most likely that she has settled in an area to her liking and bespelled it so that only she may come and go in that area as she desires. If she does not wish to be found, then you would not even be able to track her. That you have approached her and your men return unscathed should tell you a great deal of her intentions."

"She's…an Enchantress, like this Amora?" Hill asked slowly.

"No," Thor said vehemently. "They are as opposed in nature as she and Loki were. My father named her Fidelity _because_ she is steady in loyalty and hard to wake to anger. She is here because she grieves and because Midgard has never made her suffer as the other realms have." He paused and looked away, aware that he had given too much away, but it was already too late to take the words back. "Most likely, it is her plan to allow you to approach her when she has a sense of who you are as a whole. She is not one to declare herself lightly. If you wish my recommendation, then continue as you have been. You will not find capturing or bringing her down an easy task so spare your men the destruction and bloodshed and persist in approaching her through peaceful means."

Knowing they had reached the end of that topic, she switched back to her questions concerning Amora and Skurge and quizzed him a little more on what they might expect if SHIELD engaged them in combat. She was more than a little impressed by the way that he broke down the techniques he and his comrades had used in the past and translated them into methods that would be easily implemented by SHIELD agents. When he had finished the last translation and she was finalizing her notes, she glanced at him and saw that he was looking again at the picture of the Healer.

"Is she an acquaintance of yours?" Hill asked, more for curiosity than anything, and was surprised by the bark of laughter.

"She is hardly that, but neither is she to me what Jane is," Thor answered, sliding the picture beneath Amora's and then adding Skurge's photo to the pass to Hill. "She was one of Asgard's finest healers, one of three-I believe-able to heal without the assistance of the Soul Forges. My father would not have been pleased to have lost her cooperation, but she lost as much as I to the Dark Elves…nay…she lost more. I lost family, but _she_ lost a future."

Hill was quiet for a long moment, absorbing that information. Grenwhich had been one hell of a mess to clean up-not least explain-and she almost couldn't imagine what had happened in the other realms during the Convergence, as Thor had explained it. "She's not a threat, but she's lost everything that might have once held her," she said, flipping a page up and looking over something. "If we were to use one of the other Avengers to try and approach her, who would you recommend?"

He bit back an initial response of "Any of them will do" and _thought_ about the different personalities in the other Avengers and weighed the likelihood of Sigyn being skittish about talking openly with them. Widow, he knew, was highly skilled in the art of weaving words and drawing information from a situation-she _had_ bested Loki-but that skill would hurt more than help. Iron Man she had already interacted with, but a repeat encounter could produce mixed results. The good Captain was genuine in what he said and did but his only interactions with Asgardians had been with himself and-briefly-Loki. The Hawk…his mind settled on a memory of Barton's lividly blue eyes during the invasion.

"Send Hawkeye if you must send one of us. He will be wary, but she will appreciate that honest reaction above all others," Thor said, still tracing the thought he had settled on. "She has been hurt by magic at another's hand, as has he, and that…" he trailed off and finally looked at Hill's expression-one quirked eyebrow and a frown tugging at her lips.

"Agent Barton was the first one that we eliminated from among the Avengers with Stark a close second. Their…_histories_…make it difficult to assess how they would react to interacting with someone like the Healer. Director Fury was leaning towards sending Agent Romanov," she told him.

He tensed and she almost wasn't surprised. "Widow is good with words as Loki was. If you send her and she manipulates the Healer into something, I cannot say what the reaction would be. Beyond that, I do not know what else to say. Since her losses, she left Asgard and has made a semblance of a life for herself here on Midgard. Her grief will be deep and her memory even longer. Remember my words and do as you please, but know that if you move her to violence against you I will not help to fight her. The Enchantress and Skurge, yes, I will help to fight, but never _her_."

There was a moment of silence as Hill studied him. "You helped us to fight your brother, once. What's different about her?"

_Guilt_. He turned his head away and suppressed the word before it left his tongue. "She was an ally once that I trusted more than even my own father. I trusted her with the lives of myself, my brother, and my fellow warriors when I was too stupid to realize how wounded we were after a battle. She was one of only three able to stop our celebrations cold with a look and the only one we would heed when she uttered two specific words. Loki was chaos embodied and she is not. I knew that Loki was wrong when the All-Father sent me to retrieve him and the Tesseract. The Healer is not. She will _never_ fall as he did." The look he gave her was sidelong and there was enough weight to it that she looked away first.

"We'll remember," she said and that was the end of it.

After he had gone, Hill remained in the interrogation room and read through the files again, reviewing everything he had and had not said. When she reached the last page for the third time, her fingers traced the words that she had scribbled during their talk: _Healer. Fidelity. Myths. Sigyn? _The page crumpled beneath her fingers before she shut the file and stood.


End file.
